This storyline will be based from the orinial monster manual for D&D advanced. Basic forum rules apply: No god-modes, nothing sexual, no "one-lining," you must post your profile according to the character sheet I've provided, no guns, no lightsabres, no blasters, no Jedi, no Sith. This role-play is in no way related to Star Wars.

Setting: (Yes, I know this is a bit cliche' but it works for a starting point.) We will begin our story in a lonely, deserted tavern on the outskirts of a small, sparsely trafficted township skirting the egde of an ancient maple forest.

Race: Half elf, half crystal dragon (the dragon humanoid form resembles closely that of the high-elves, but for the hair colour. High elves tend to have hair colour that ranges from light blonde to dark ash-blonde while the race of crystal dragons tend to have silver or white hair as well as ears that come to a sharper point. Half-breeds among these species resemble more their elf parents and often times inherit the hair colour of their dragon parent as well as slightly increased height.. they can change between their two forms, but not quite so easily as if they were full dragon rather than half.)

Alignment: Neutral Good

Weapon of choice: dwarf-wrought Dragonsabre (A weapon of orgins that are quite unknown.. it was said to have been the tool of a great dragon slayer that was executed by the good dragons for murdering offspring, the weapon was confiscated by the silver dragons and given to the leader of the crystalÂ breed later on as a peace-gift.)

Languages: Several/all sentient and some non-sentient Special abilities: Some deep magic, surpassing ranging abilities (as with all elves, good with a bow) Other misc: Prefers raw meat to cooked but eats mostly cooked to keep appearances; has a "Magic" pouch.. she can't take anything out of it that wasn't first put in and has all of her earthly possessions stored away in the pouch (requires a "word" in the dragon tongue to open)
Family: Her mother died in the birthing of her and her twin brother, Ryuvanne. Her father is the great dragon Galvian, and she has one more brother, Haldir, who was sired by an elf. Haldir died at war before she had been born, leaving behind lost offspring to a being unknown.Â Ryuvanne had disappeared shortly after he and his twin (Ryvienna) had come of age.

Background: Ryvienna was raised by her father, with her twin brother Ryuvanne, as a dragon. She and her twin brother struggled through their childhood with their lessons, and as dragons have longer life-span than elves they grew to adulthood slightly more quickly than did the dragonlettes they were children with. Their father ended up taking them away in their later adolecence to live alone as a family in the mountains where he instructed them in the ways of the other races and occupations of the humanoids. They both chose the way of the ranger.. They, the twins, did everything together; not just because they were the only of their age group they could accociate with but that they, as with most identical twins of sentient races, shared a deep bond. With dragons, unlike with humans and elves, depending on which breed they came they chose their sex either before they reach adulthood or before they hatch. Crystal dragons were a special breed that chose before they hatched; the twins came from the same egg in their mothers' womb, identical twins with identical DNA, and each chose to be the opposite gender from the other the moment they were conceived. Ryvienna was the first born.
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Her family environment was loving and supportive, her brother followed her just about everywhere, partially as a protector and partially because the twins didn't have any other friends, they were taught how to transform in and out of other forms as well as both of their other halves, which came almost naturally. As being only half dragons and only having half as much deep magic as a full of their fathers' species they were limited on how quickly they could transform and how often. Ryvienna can only transform once or twice, three times if she must... but it pushes her almost to death, by her natural means; Ryvienna and Ryuva

Weapon of choice: Scimitar, throwing daggers and a very special wakizashi. (Details in background)

Familiars: None

occupation: Bounty Hunter

background: Jarson was brother to Ralnok Endice. Many years ago, a vampire kidnapped them after slaughtering their parents, and they became vampires themselves. Ralnok was unique in every possible way. He was agile, fast, and could learn fast. However, unlike his brother, Ralnok could go very long periods of time without the need for blood of others to survive. Jarson was much different. He needed to drink the blood of either man, woman, or beast everyday to survive. He was fast and agile like his brother, but could not learn as fast.

Ten years before the stone of Phegreth came into existence, Jarson and his brother both left to explore the world together and visited Japan. There, they learned how to speak the language. Ralnok spent most of his time learning the ways of Bushido and martial arts, whereas Jarson wished to stay with the old ways he had learned. Overtime, Jarson became infatuated with a woman, but It was soon time for them to leave. Ralnok heard that Jarson was in love with this foreign lady and knew that if it went any farther, Jarson would stay with her, so one night, Ralnok slit her throat and filled a goblet with her blood-setting it and a note with words of hatred next to Jarson while he slept. Ralnok left him, and they never saw each other for twenty years.

The vampire awoke to find his love?s blood in the goblet with Ralnok?s letter. Jarson was furious not only with his brother, but with himself for not protecting her better. He returned to his homeland and went sought revenge on his brother, only to find that he had became ruler of the land his parents once owned. He decided not to slay his brother until the perfect time would come. During this period, he chose to become a bounty hunter. His brother was struggling with an escapee, and the man had a large price on his head. Jarson thought it would be an excellent time to take revenge on his brother, a good way to get closer to him without being caught for his murder.

However, an assassin from Japan got in his way. The ninja was going to eliminate Jarson?s target before he could use him to his advantage. Jarson struck him in the back with a dagger and stole the assassin?s weapon. The curious thing about the weapon he took, was that it had ?fire demon? imprinted on the blade with a blood groove that ran into it. If the symbols were filled with the blood, it would become flame. Jarson thought it to be fitting for him and kept it with him. Later that same year, Jarson found Ralnok beaten and broken at the bottom of his own castle, the man Jarson was after high in the windows. Jarson killed his brother as he held him in his arms, and framed the man for Ralnok?s death.

Later, the land Ralnok ruled was taken over, and Jarson found promises in a sorcerer named Kahentah who wanted Jarson to be his advisor. Jarson accepted with much pride, knowing that if he fulfilled his masters wishes, he would be given immortality, and would never have to drink the blood of others again, but only if killed the mans original advisor, and in order to do that, he must go to the place Kahentah once reigned and find a very special sword there. Jarson agreed to his masters plan, and now seeks the sword that lays at the bottom of the Phegrethian Ocean.

A gentle breeze stirred the still twilight air as a soft glimmer of light shone softly from the bossom of distant mountains, a twitter of awakening morning birds rose from the night silence, their noise growing as the sky's gradient transformed from a deep midnight to an ever lightening royal blue. Local farmers could be seen from a distance yolking their workhorses and making their way to their barns with milking pails and stools, strong backed men coul be seen lugging their pickaxes and lunch baskets towards the local mines, and a few forest rangers were making their way to the local Inn for an early breakfast. The small Inn was old, and shabby, and rarely visited by outsiders. Rooms were rarely lent, but the previous night an very strange visitor had arrived in the middle of the night, paying for her room up front and in full..

As a beam of sunlight filtered in through the torn gauze of old curtains, the half elf had begun to awake, hesitant to open her eyes, still clining to lingering dreams of ceturies lost. She finally released her fading dreams and slowly opened her eyes, soft, grey eyes, gradually gathering the stoney hardness of her long years. She sat up slowly, shaking her head, trying to jolt herself from weariness to alert in a moment, her long hair falling well passed her kness as she cradled her aching head in one hand. Morning offended her; she had become accustomed to travel and hunt at night, she mentally kicked herself for not sleeping at all over the week passed, she had been traveling north. Normally she wouldn't have taken so long to travel so far, or exhausted herself in doing so.. but dragons weren't welcome anymore in the world of men, and elves were slowly dissapearing back into faery. She had heard rumours of serpents in the northern snows, and over the last two centuries she had been desperately seeking her twin brother.. she knew he was still in this world.

Sighing, Ryvienna pulled on her clothing and buckled her enormous blade accross her back, she made her way downstairs to the tavern, hoping the Inn keeper was better with cooking than he was with the upkeep of his shabby business.

Jarson stood before the old shabby tavern shielding his emerald eyes from the sunlight. The rangers entering the inn looked at him in a peculiar way, as if they knew he wasn?t around these parts. Maybe it was his large winter coat that he refused to remove, or his long black hair pulled back. Or it could have been the fact he scowled at the sun, baring his large canine teeth.

He looked away from the morning sky and took a moment to yawn and rub his eyes. He hadn?t slept for days, he was urgent to get back to his homeland?s ocean to fulfill his masters wishes. Soon he would get there and have what he wanted so badly. Unfortunately, he knew it would take him a while. In fact, he had no idea how far from home he was.

The vampire felt thirsty. Last nights taste was so good, so sweet, but he knew at some point today, he?d have to have another drink. If only he had a flask that he might fill with blood so he wouldn?t have to kill so often. It would make his trip much easier. He stuck his hand in a coat pocket and pulled out a few coins and counted to see if he had enough for something to drink. Anything would work at this moment?anything to rid of last nights taste, no matter how good it was. It seemed like it would be enough, but then again- the world was a very strange place full of strange people. He stuffed the money back into his pocket, fixed his scimitar on his waist and made sure his wakizashi was still in it?s place.

Jarson looked back to the sky once again letting the breeze hit his face, took a deep breath, and entered the tavern, hoping for something to drink and perhaps a place to rest-then maybe later that night he would go out to find a taste for the day. As he opened the doors, he couldn?t help but form a sly grin. Maybe someone here could help him understand this land so he could get home faster.

The she elf plopped herself into a roughly cut wooden chair, signalling to the bartender to bring her something to eat. She knew whatever meager portion he brought her wouldn't, or rather, couldn't possibly be enough to sate the appetite for her dragon half.. but she would be thankful for whatever she was given.. 'Perhaps,' she thought, '..perhaps I could pay one of the rangers to snag something for me..' The barmaid tossed a bowl of cold porridge before her and continued about her duties... she had forgotten to give her a spoon. Ryvienna caught the womans' attention and signalled her over, as soon as the flighty woman was within reach the she-elf grasped the back of her neck and yanked her down to eye-level, she did not want to stand.. it didn't seem worth her while, "If you don't at least attempt good service I'll not only refrain from tipping but I'll also pin you down and shave you bald. Get me a spoon," Ryvienna smiled brightly at the barmaid as the woman scrambled from sight.

The elf-woman stared with distain into the depths of her porridge and sighed, it could have been days old for all she knew. The serving girl rushed back to her and set a worn, but clean, wooden spoon in front of her, bowed, and dashed off to the kitchen with tears in her eyes. The few rangers in the room just stared at the half-elf, but soon returnedto their morning mead. Ryvienna tested the spoon against the surface of her porridge, thick and pasty.. she hated porridge, grits, and gruel... but she decided to make do with what she did. She sighed again as she began to choke down her pathetic morning meal.

Jarson found himself a place to sit. He collapsed into the closest chair he could find. His legs felt weak, almost numb from all the constant walking he had done. His stomach growled loudly at him. He realized not only was he in need for something to drink, but he also needed food. Something to eat?anything to silence his stomach. He looked around for a barmaid, and saw one bustling around trying to get things done as fast as she could. He watched as she tossed a bowl in front of another woman with a sword strapped to her back and began to hurry away. He started to look away when he heard the woman say something. He looked back to see that she had pulled the barmaid down and demanded for a spoon. Jarson chuckled. The woman had amused him.

After the barmaid delivered the spoon, he rose his hand to catch the now weeping woman?s attention. She came over in a hurry. Jarson cleared his throat. ?Forgive me, but could you perhaps bring me some water? I?ll also take a bit of any kind of food you have on hand.? The barmaid nodded and started to hurry away when Jarson caught her by the arm. ?Oh?and I would remember some form of eating utensil next time you serve people.? He grinned baring his teeth. ?People like me. If I don?t have anything to eat with, well, I?m afraid I?d have to make do with what I can find.? The barmaid pulled her arm away, eyes fixed on his canine teeth, shuddered and hurried away.

The vampire took a deep breath and relaxed back into his chair and waited to see what he would receive. He just hoped it would not be that God awful looking porridge the woman he saw received.

Deciding to take a break from her porridge, mostly because it was chewy.. and she was having trouble not purging it from her gullet, the elf-woman leaned back in her chair and pushed her hair from her face, tying it behind her head with a leather strip, revealing pale ears tapered to severe points, the length of her ears and features of her face not revealing at all that she might be only half-elf..

She flicked her wrist, releasing a small dagger, one of the many she kept hidden in the long, dark sleeves of her hunting garb, and began to clean her fingernails. Ryvienna wasn't normally a crabby sort of person.. she just didn't like poor service, or getting up early in the morning. She was dressed simply, as most elves were accustomed, with breeches and a jacket of a dark green, so dark in fact that it was almost black, and ranging boots made from an unknown animal skin. Though her clothing was simple, it was increadibly well-made, for it was elf-made and of a worth that if would take many humans a life-time of indentured servitude just to pay for the tunic. Ryvienna was always very clean, she groomed herself on a daily basis, which could take quite a bit of time due to the length and thickness of her silver hair, which fell shimmering passed her knees and well on its way to her ankles. This morning she hadn't felt like taking the time to restrain the silken mass in its normal loose knot at the back of her head, but there would be time for such later, when she was finished with her.... breakfast.

The elf-woman once again raised the wooden spoon to her mouth, closing her eyes as she desperately tried to swallow the small bite of gruel. Choking slightly she signalled the barmaid back to her table, the timid serving girl came fearfully to her side and leaned down slightly as Ryvienna ordered.. anything other than what she was given, "I would like for you to bring me some hot tea, and if you don't have any then at least bring me something hot.. I don't care if it's wine, or rum, or mead.. just bring me something! ..also, please take this away.. I would like a very large portion of meat, and I will gladly pay you more than it's worth." The serving girl skuttled away to fullfill the elf-woman's wishes, fearful of what would happen to her if she did not.

The vampire drummed his fingers on his table, trying to patiently wait for his water. In time, the barmaid brought him a small wooden cup of water, after helping the woman that demanded the spoon. He saw that the woman had elf in her, an odd thing for him to see. He had never seen elves before in his homeland.

He eyed the water for a moment and wondered what the barmaid would give him to eat?He sighed. He really didn?t want to eat here. It might be cheaper for him to have just gone out and slay a deer. If he did that, he might not have to slay anyone for his taste. He could eat and drink the blood then. He didn?t like to do that, it was too messy for him. Jarson continued to drum his fingers on the wooden table.

The barmaid later appeared with a bowl and spoon in hand. Jarson stood to his feet, bowed and left some money for her service and the water. He didn?t want to eat what ever she was bringing him, especially after seeing the elf woman?s reaction to the food she had. If she didn?t like it- he was sure it would be horrible for him.

Jarson turned in his leather boots, his winter coat sweeping the floor, and stepped out of the tavern to go for a hunt. At least this way, he was almost guaranteed to get something decent to eat without having to let something sick run down his throat. He took a deep breath and looked up to the bright sky whispering to himself.

Finally the serving girl brought out the portion of meat she had ordered, but by this time the she-elf was ravenous; her nearly empty stomach was growling deeply, complaining as if it had never before been fed. Ryvienna thanked the girl for her service and shoved a handful of coins in the womans' hand, gold coins. The barmaid gazed at her hand in amazment, she had probably never touched a gold coin in her life.

Ryvienna took the hunk of... ham..? to her room, gently closing the door behind her and devouring the plate-sized portion within seconds... it was no good. Her other half was craving fresh meat.. and much of it. Her grey eyes shifted briefly to gold as the dragon in her rose to the surface and then returned to dormancy. She needed to be on the move again before the hunger overcame her again.

She donned her riding cap and cloak, also a very dark green, and strapped her quiver and un-strung bow to her back, moving her massive dragonsabre to her left hip and buckling it into place. In one motion she swept her hair back and twisted it into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, tying it securely as she proceeded out of her rented room with her saddle bags. The tiny inn had been unable to provide lodgings for her horse, so she had been forced to tie him to a nearby tree, and so there he still stood, looming and dark, a massive creature as compared to most horses. His was a breed selected over thousands of years, breed specifically until they were of a size and girth befitting dragonlords to ride into battle, to lead their elf-kin against the hordes of the wicked.. there were few of his kind left in the world. Adare, the massive black warhorse, pawed the still cold morning turf in anticipation, barely able to remain still as his master tightened his saddle and replaced his saddle bags on either side of him.

Five slim daggers dove into a jackrabbit. Jarson slid into view, his coat swaying from side to side as he sang to himself a song he loved to sing so long ago.
?Through the twilight air
The poor soul sleeps
A bitter dream
A sweet nightmare-?
He reached down and pulled the daggers from the dead animal and lifted it by the ears.
?Death comes softly my dear,
To slay you before you ever hear
The bell ringing or the horn blowing
For after you died,
Judgment came and made it?s call.?
He sighed and used one of the dagger he killed the animal with to skin it. He took a ddep breath and sang another tune. His personal favorite, the very same on he sang when he had slain his brother:

He chuckled. A memory flashed through his mind from when he sang that last note. He loved that last line. His brother took his last breath when he sang it. It wasn?t an appropriate tune for his brother?most of it was directed towards the man he framed. He hoped he could sing it again to him some day. Jarson sighed again and continued to skin the jackrabbit.

OOC: Jarson is poetic person...I should have included that in his profile. He likes to sing a song or rhyme to his victims. ...Are you still getting my SMS messages. My messenger is acting really annoying..The fact that I'm not getting all your messages is making me worry about..well..everything I guess.

OOC: It might just be my cell phone. I has been acting a little funny lately.. plus there's a crak in the side of it. I wish I knew how it got there.

IC as Ryvienna

The elf- woman swung herself into her saddle and urged her horse forward, which wasn't nessasarily needed since he was already trotting away from the tavern just as soon as she was seated, and steered her eagar companion into the trees. It had already promised to be a bright, fair weathered day, the sky was clear without even a hint of coming clouds, beams of sunlight filtered throught the purple boughs above, teasing dancing swarms of gnats and motes of dust. No breath of air moved in the stillness of that early summer morning, and the soft turf muffled the enormous Adare in his eagar walk. There was no well-beaten path in the forest, no parting in the mossy earth.. it seemed even the maple-wood creatures were reluctant to break the silence.. or something was wrong..

Breathing in deeply, the she-elf tried to grasp scent, any scent really, of nearby animals.. or predators. Nothing seemed wrong to her other than the akward silence of the deepening wood. Still she drew her bow, stringing it silently, half-drawing a hand-made arrow from her full quiver.. it seemed something was amiss, something was present in this forest that wasn't readily welcome.. and it wasn't her.

Jarson finished off the rabbit he had slain. He licked the blood away from his lips?raw meat was so good tasting. There was not very much meat on the animal, but it was enough to silence his growling stomach for the day. He had taken advantage of the dead creature to feed his thirst for blood as well, so he did not need to kill again for the day. The vampire tossed the remaining bones aside and licked the blood from the daggers he used to kill the jackrabbit. He slid them back in his coat and prepared to head back to the town, or continue his journey home?that is wherever home was.

He turned and looked beyond a large amount of shrub and saw the elf woman he had seen in the tavern. Jarson reached for his scimitar for some form of quick defense, but he changed his mind remembering the large sword he saw strapped to her back. There was no way he could parry off an attack from that nasty looking blade. For a quick moment, he thought maybe he could take the sword from her, but he changed his mind. He had not had much experience with elves?but he knew they are amazing fighters with skills no man could perform.

The vampire felt nervous seeing this woman. He wasn?t normally nervous around anyone, but there was something about her presence that made him feel uneasy. Her bow was out with the arrow nocked and ready. He reached into his coat once again and pulled four daggers, one between each finger. Would he approach her? No. He didn?t like that idea-It would be too dangerous for him. Vampire?s were not the strongest race?and he wasn?t even pure bloo-

He gasped and stumbled back a bit, a twig snapping under his foot. He dropped to the ground away from view with one thought: ?Blast!?

background: He was born in a small, forest surrounded house with his father and two brothers. At age twelve they were exploring around in the woods when an abnormally large white wolf attacked william. He was bitten on the arm and the leg but recovered within days of the attack. He began to notice that he was growing faster than normal people do, he also became faster, stronger, had very accute senses and and had an odd craving for meat.
2 months later he killed his whole family and started the Werewolf bloodline. He then after mastered his werewolf form and can summon it at will.

Her first reaction would have been to loose her arrow in the direction of the snapped twig.. but she already knew he was there, she could smell the blood of his kill. She dropped cat-like from her horse and unstrung her bow, strapping it back in its place at her back. She placed her hand upon the handle of her massive blade, slowly drawing it from its scabbard at her side. The enchanted, dwarf-wrought dragonsteel rang menacingly against the hard leather of its sheath, the sound grated agains the elf-womans' ears, raising the hairs at the nape of her neck.. the hiss of her sabre unsheathed enlivened her, awakening briefly the warrior she was.

The half-dragon dropped to a defensive stance and leveled her blade, hugging it to her side to counterbalance its girth, in a low voice she called to the underbrush, "Show yourself."

Jarson sighed at the sound of the woman?s voice. He stood himself upright, brushing the dirt from his winter coat. At least the woman had not killed him. He held the daggers tightly in his hand and slid his foot back in case he needed to run from the elf. The blade she held still worried him. Perhaps for once, just once, he would be a friendly person, just to make sure he would stay alive long enough to complete his masters wishes.

?Sorry to have surprised you there. I was just out for a good morning hunt. My name is Jarson Endice?I mean no harm to you.? He rolled his head around cracking his neck. ?I am not from around here as you might be able to tell.? The vampire placed his empty hand inside his pocket and leaned against a tree trunk. He gave a curious look at the elf woman.
?And?you are??

Sheathing her blade she took a reluctant step forward, it was odd that this unsual man hadn't attacted her, as she was wont.. it had been many years since an acutal person had actually stopped to talk to her rather than attempt her life.. or virtue..

She twirled a loose strand of silvery hair around her supple forfinger, his words had held a hint of relief, as if a deathly fear had left him suddenly.. perhaps this... man?... was afraid of her. After a long moment the half-efl dipped into a slight bow, her eyes never breaking contact with his, the sky-grey coldness of her gaze boring deeply into his mind, fishing for a reason to suspect him of.. well, anything.

Jarson relaxed as he watched her sheath her blade. He was relieved to know she did not want to attack him. He drew his arm holding the daggers back into his coat placing them back in their spot.

?Ryvienna? Well?it?s nice to meet your acquaintance.? He chuckled softly. ?Never seen an elf before. I suppose this would be an honor.? Jarson pulled himself off of the tree trunk and gave her a bow. ?That is an interesting sword you wield. Would it offend if I asked were you got such a magnificent looking weapon??

A pale hand dropped to the handle of the dwarf-made sabre, slim fingers stroked delicately the hand crafted counter balance, skimming along the cool surface of the sleeping blade. It was more than just an unusually shaped sword, it was a blade infused with ideals, a blade that lived. More than 2,000 years old and kept within her family when the blade was returned to the good dragons, this blade was created to slay evil... or anything wherein evil dwelt.

Ryvienna half-dragon was silent again for a long moment, knowing the newcomer was merely attempting polite conversation.. her blade was rarely asked of. "Just a family heirloom.. nothing more." With those words the elf-woman turned quickly and traipsed back her impatienly waiting companion, Adare, who was amusing himself by shuffling a rock across the moist turf. She swung herself atop the gargantuan animal and restrung her bow, nockning another arrow and drawing it taught to her cheek.

Jarson smirked as the woman climbed upon her horse and drew another arrow. He had managed to get away with his life this time. He reached around behind him. He was bored, not much was happening. Suddenly, his mood changed. Something inside him wanted to ?ignite? some more excitement. And that?s just what he was going to do.

He reached around behind him and pulled out his wakizashi and a small vial of blood. ?Tell me, Ryvienna. Do you know just how flammable the forest is?? He poured a small amount of blood onto his special blade letting it fill the symbol. The slender Japanese blade lost it?s solid form and transformed into pure flame.

?Let?s play for a while. I?m bored.? He spun around to strike the tree.

Familiars: Rojan's first creation that was a success, a Muntle. (You'll find out about it later)

occupation: Rojan was a Genetic Scientist but was kicked out for tampering with gene pools and creating new creatures, when he was fired he kept his ideas and equipment. He then became a Bounty Hunter, an Assassin, a hunter. But now he lives off the land.

background: DELETED, Rajan made sure of it. Only information known his Where he was last Seen.

family: Dead, Rojan killed them all, afraid they would give information on him.